She felt somewhat uneasy. Great Qian Academy currently had the highest expectations for success in the spring examinations, but from her recent observations, the academy’s students seemed somewhat too radical.
The way they raised their arms shouting slogans and that fanatical atmosphere always reminded her of what His Majesty had said: young people are most passionate, but this passion is also most easily incited and exploited.
“The grand talent selection of the realm—how many scholars have studied hard for ten years waiting for this day. The spring examinations are open to all recommended scholars, with fairness as the only criterion. This is an unchangeable rule,” Tie Ci said. “You should still visit the academy frequently. Later I’ll also have Grand Tutor He and others go lecture there. Academic schools of thought are best when a hundred schools contend.”
Jian Xi accepted the order.
Tie Ci seemed to have lost interest, taking the box and cats to sleep.
Jian Xi rose, looking back to see His Majesty placing the box containing the daily records within arm’s reach, and couldn’t help but sigh quietly.
…
The following March brought the third year of Zhiming’s spring examinations, also the first time Great Qian Academy’s first graduating class participated collectively in the spring examinations.
But before this, some scholars not interested in the classics examination had already entered the court, assigned to various ministries and prefectures for internships. Many students, due to their flexible minds, advanced and comprehensive knowledge, and practical familiarity, were directly retained after their internships, filling the middle and lower ranks of the civil service.
Great Qian Academy also had students skilled in formulaic essays. The academy’s reputation, status, and treatment could attract the most outstanding students from across the realm. Apart from Yueli Academy’s dominance in Haiyou, other academies had no competitive edge. Students from other regions mostly took pride in studying at Great Qian Academy.
Great Qian Academy also provided them the best learning conditions, richest curriculum, and most extensive fresh knowledge. Some outstanding students directly abandoned their studies to research the academy’s various novel subjects.
Even so, Great Qian Academy still provided the most and best talents to the spring examinations, monopolizing the runner-up and third place positions, with the highest number of successful candidates. Next was Yueli, which produced Haiyou’s third champion in history. This lucky individual was reportedly personally selected and taught by Director Rong, writing three essays daily at the academy, thoroughly studying the writing styles and personal preferences of every possible chief examiner in court. However, according to rumors, his abilities were roughly equal to the runner-up’s—he won the top prize because His Majesty favored his essay.
The palace examination essay topic was not lengthy. Set by Tie Ci, it was unusually simple yet all-encompassing: “Discuss the failings of governance and strategies for ruling the world.”
Traditional palace examination essays typically focused on specific practical matters like “river defense strategies,” “eradicating official corruption,” “military camp discipline,” or “nurturing the people’s strength.” This boundless, all-encompassing topic could easily lead to empty, pompous official rhetoric.
The top three were personally selected by the Emperor, and to show fairness, papers submitted for imperial review remained anonymous.
The top three papers were directly sealed and archived afterward without publication, though rumors leaked that the champion’s paper was selected for being “mature and steady, profound and substantial.”
Hearing this, all the high officials showed meaningful expressions.
Since the champion was selected for a “steady” writing style, the other two were obviously too “radical” for His Majesty’s taste.
Though court officials were rather sensitive about this, Great Qian Academy still celebrated joyously over their outstanding results. For a time, many flocked to join, making it the most coveted destination for scholars nationwide.
This batch of new jinshi followed convention: first-rank graduates entered the Hanlin Academy, second-rank became directors in various ministries or prefects in provinces, third-rank became judicial officers or magistrates in counties.
However, this year, since most official quotas were filled, quite a few were still waiting for vacancies.
For this matter, the Grand Tutor specially visited the palace to see Tie Ci, then went to the Personnel Ministry, expressing that these talented young men shouldn’t waste away in endless waiting. He suggested not worrying about ranks or positions—just give them opportunities to display their abilities.
With words reaching this point, from the cabinet to the Personnel Ministry, all had benefited from the Grand Tutor’s medicinal care for their health over recent years. Therefore, the Emperor issued a special decree for the cabinet and Personnel Ministry to expedite processing. Eventually, all these jinshi received appointments to the six ministries and prefectures nationwide.
Simultaneously, Tie Ci conducted unprecedented personnel transfers, reshuffling young officials nationwide who had received appointments through imperial examinations, recommendations, and various other channels in recent years. This involved an extremely large number of people, many from the major academies, though most were lateral transfers without promotions. Although the cabinet and Personnel Ministry were overwhelmed, there wasn’t much dissent. Rotational assignments during tenure were expected—this time just involved more people.
The spring examinations and transfers kept everyone busy until June, during which the Emperor’s birthday passed. As in previous years, the Emperor held no birthday celebration, no ceremonies, accepted no gifts from ministers or congratulations from all quarters. It ended with just a meal in the palace with several important ministers and trusted aides.
This was reportedly because the Emperor said the Chongming Incident had damaged national strength and caused people to suffer. In the short term, apart from various ceremonies for the Late Emperor, the palace would hold no large celebrations, economizing all unnecessary expenses.
In the Emperor’s words: there are many places to spend money—why waste large sums inviting people to dinner? If officials spend large amounts on gifts for me, they’ll just recoup these losses by exploiting the people, harming my subjects and realm. Wouldn’t that be my loss?
Hearing this, ministers could only smile bitterly, thinking: You claim benevolence, but you’ve always been ruthless with corrupt officials, each more severe than Great Feng’s emperor. Now which official in the realm dares be corrupt?
The people praised this endlessly. Since ascending the throne, the Emperor practiced frugality, humbly accepted advice, governed through culture, encouraged agriculture, strictly supervised officials, and gave people rest and recovery. Naturally, governance was smooth and the realm peaceful—truly worthy of being called a wise ruler.
The people also felt pity for the Emperor—a lone woman who ascended during the grief of losing parents and betrayal by lovers, yet never became despondent, always prioritizing the realm and people. This inspired both respect and sympathy. She was still just a woman in her twenties—how could she plan to spend her entire life in the lonely depths of the palace?
Therefore, when court rumors spread that the Emperor planned to tour the realm, the people, who in previous years strongly opposed such tours as wasteful, were quite excited and joyful.
But the court erupted in uproar.
No one could understand why the Emperor suddenly wanted to tour the realm. Hadn’t she said she wanted to save money? Touring the realm—the ceremonies, escorts, countless people’s food and clothing along the way, plus local government receptions… wouldn’t the cost be astronomical?
More importantly, if something happened, the dynasty didn’t even have an heir.
Led by He Zi, all officials collectively advised against it. This time the Emperor seemed determined, saying the Late Emperor’s wish was to see the realm he governed. By year’s end, the Late Emperor would be interred in Jing Mausoleum—before his burial, she must see this realm for him.
This reason left ministers unable to argue, since dynasties traditionally governed through filial piety. Once the hat of filial duty was placed, no one could bear it.
But agreeing to the Emperor’s realm tour was truly impossible. Probably only the Grand Tutor laughingly said go play if you want, just remember to approve her memorials. No one else agreed. He Zi led the officials in grinding away for three days in Chongming Hall. Finally, the Emperor said with apparent regret: “Fine then, I’ll abandon the realm tour and just go to Yong Ping to see Di Yiwei and her soldiers, to inspect northern military preparations since we’ll eventually recover Liaodong.”
The ministers still disapproved, but since the Emperor had stepped back, they naturally couldn’t be ungrateful and reluctantly agreed, hurrying back to prepare.
He Zi wearily stepped over the threshold, casually turning back to see the Emperor examining maps on the desk, her cinnabar brush lightly marking Yong Ping, a satisfied smile at the corner of her lips.
This smile stunned He Zi, then understanding flashed through his mind like lightning.
Deceived!
What realm tour, what seeing rivers and mountains for the Late Emperor.
All just the Emperor playing mind games!
She never intended to travel the entire realm—her destination from beginning to end was only Yong Ping.
Knowing that even going to Yong Ping would face desperate opposition from ministers, she simply claimed she wanted to tour the realm for a year or two. When ministers cried and made a fuss to stop her, she could pretend to step back. Then ministers would naturally have no grounds or position to obstruct further.
His Majesty is cunning!
He Zi stood frozen on the threshold. Zhu Yi followed behind him, puzzled: “Teacher? Teacher?”
He Zi came to his senses, looked toward the north, and suddenly said: “…Is she really going to Yong Ping?”
Zhu Yi: “…?”
“Isn’t she really going somewhere north of Yong Ping?” He Zi grasped his prized disciple’s hand and said mournfully: “Little Zhu, our Great Qian dynasty won’t produce an emperor who elopes, will it? It won’t, will it?”
Zhu Yi: “…???”
Had his teacher been driven mad by His Majesty’s northern tour?
And who would His Majesty elope with?
With Di Yiwei?
…